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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748449">My Dearest, Edward</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitlikeagreaser/pseuds/cc%20tinslebee'>cc tinslebee (Doitlikeagreaser)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gotham (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arkham Asylum, Blackgate Penitentiary (DCU), Canon Compliant, Gotham City - Freeform, Hamilton Lyrics, In Between 5x11 and 5x12, Inspired by Hamilton, Letters, M/M, Nygmobblepot, Oswald Cobblepot and Edward Nygma in Love, POV Edward Nygma, POV Oswald Cobblepot, Pre-Episode: s05e12 The Beginning..., Season/Series 05, Separation Anxiety, Separations</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:56:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitlikeagreaser/pseuds/cc%20tinslebee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oswald Cobblepot and Edward Nygma never saw each other during the time that they were separated by ten years and two different institutions. That’s not to say that they didn’t have other ways of keeping in touch with one another.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oswald Cobblepot &amp; Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Dearest, Edward</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Edawrd Nygma sat in his cell at Arkham Asylum, his right leg bouncing up and down in an impatient rhythm. That was because he</span>
  <em>
    <span> was </span>
  </em>
  <span>impatient. Maybe that was the most pathetic thing about it all. Ten -- nearly eleven -- years ago, he was considered one of the most dangerous men in Gotham. Now, he was getting anxious over the delivery of something he already knew was coming. It always did around this time of month, without delay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Of course, there was always the part of Edward’s mind that asked </span>
  <em>
    <span>What if it doesn’t this time?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  These monthly interplays were the only thing keeping him sane in this hellhole. Edward knew this and so did </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Yes, after about the first sixth months of this back and forth, Edward worried about the possibility that maybe today would be the day that it didn’t come. But it always did without fail.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nygma!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward lifted his head up from his hands and looked up. Outside of his cell stood one of Arkham’s guards. The only decent one, actually. He was fairly new to Arkham by the time Edward had been locked up again nearly ten years ago. Edward didn’t know his name -- he never asked -- but this man never failed to show him more human decency than he ever would have in that place without him. Their conversations were brief and borderline not existent between them, but they helped each other survive. The guard would ensure that the other guards weren’t too harsh on Edward and discreetly delivered his letters back and forth. In return, Edward would make sure that the guard was in the good graces of the other inmates -- which, in itself, was equal to both of the guard’s favors combined.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guard slipped the letter through the bars and Edward grabbed it graciously. The guard nodded and went on his way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward watched him leave before tearing open the letter. He paused upon unfolding the letter and looked at it with relief. He was met with comfortably familiar handwriting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My dearest, Edward</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day.” I trust you’ll understand the reference to another Scottish tragedy without my having to name the play.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward couldn’t help but chuckle. It appeared as though after all these years, his oldest friend was finally willing to indulge his interests. Perhaps it took a little over a decade for him to do so, but the gesture still warmed his heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He continued:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They think me Macbeth, and ambition is my folly. I’m a polymath, a pain in the ass. -- a massive pain. Bullock is Banquo, Gordon’s Macduff, and Birnam Wood is the GCPD on its way to Dunsinane.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely </span>
  </em>
  <span>see that. Like Macduff, Gordon always seemed to come into the picture everytime Oswald rose to power. And then, subsequently, he fell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But there was an alternative meaning to this line: Oswald might be getting out. He’d finally be free of that wretched Blackgate Penitentiary. Edward couldn’t help but feel a tinge of hope that Oswald might find time in his busy life of freedom to visit him at Arkham.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And there you are, a prison away. Do you have to live a prison away? Thoughts of you subside, then I get another letter and I cannot put the notion away…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward hardly had time to analyse that line with anything other than a tinge of glee before the guard returned. He peered over to him with an unconsciously dopey smile, “Yes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man unlocked the cell door, “It’s time.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Edward nodded as a silent thank you and he got up. His doctor had mentioned that he wanted to meet with him after lunch today to discuss his progress. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Edward had overheard the guard speak to his doctor and the current director of Arkham about him. He said that after ten years of observing Edward, he no longer seemed </span>
  <em>
    <span>insane </span>
  </em>
  <span>exactly, but rather simply a criminal who had served his purpose here. It was proposed that giving Edward parole or transferring him to a normal prison like Blackgate for a short time might be beneficial.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Either way, it was an opportunity for a long overdue change for Edward. But in the interest of a comforting routine, Edward would finish reading Oswald’s letter and write him back as soon as possible.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald Cobblepot peered outside of his cell in clear annoyance at the man standing in front of it. Wilson Bishop -- who for some odd reason has stuck around Blackgate Penitentiary for nearly a decade and a half by now -- stood outside of Oswald’s cell as if expecting something from the incarcerated man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“May I help you?” Oswald asked sharply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like Bishop was an awful man or guard. No, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Bishop may have been the nicest man Oswald had encountered here. However, Oswald was not known for </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>shooting the messenger and he often had a difficult time composing his frustrations, especially in prison.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Another letter arrived for you,” Bishop replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That </span>
  </em>
  <span>he did not expect. Oswald had thought that his next letter from Edward wasn’t due for another couple of days. Not that he was disappointed -- the exact opposite actually; he was elated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Wilson. I can take that,” Oswald stood up from his bench and hobbled over to the front of the cell, taking the letter carefully from Wilson. “That’ll be all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bishop gave him an impassive look; this was a prison, after all, not a hotel. Nevertheless, he left Oswald to read his message in private.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He began:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My dearest Oswald</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You must get through to Gordon. Sit down with someone and compromise; don’t stop until you agree. Your favorite associate, Edward reminds you, there’s someone in your corner all the way across the city.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That </span>
  </em>
  <span>made Oswald smile. He had always suspected that Edward knew that he was his favorite out of the city’s criminals. That was not surprising to anyone. But Edward -- as smart as he was -- was dense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next line in the letter caught his eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In a letter I received from you two weeks ago, I noticed a comma in the middle of a phrase. It changed the meaning. Did you intend this? One stroke and you’ve consumed my waking days. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It says, “My dearest Edward,” with a comma after “dearest.” You’ve written, “My dearest, Edward.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Edward </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>picked up on that. (Leave it to Edward to over analyse his letter from Oswald </span>
  <em>
    <span>to Oswald</span>
  </em>
  <span>.)  It appeared as though Arkham Asylum hadn’t rotted that brilliantly twisted brain of his just yet. For that, Oswald was relieved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald had worried simultaneously these past few weeks that Edward both would and wouldn’t pick up on that little character. Oswald’s affections were not a secret to anyone who knew him well enough, but one might have assumed that after nearly a decade, the former crime lord had given up on these failed feelings. This, however, was not the case. But then again, Edward may have been smart enough to pick up on the grammatical addition, but he was still very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>dense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s not to say that Oswald didn’t notice the small dot of ink Edward had left in between “dearest” and “Oswald.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, all this to say, I may be coming to Blackgate this summer at my doctor’s invitation. I'll be there with you if you can't make your way upstate. I know you’re very busy; I know getting out’s important, but I’m crossing the city and I just can’t wait.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You won’t be a prison away. You will only be a moment away…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The surge of affection and sudden hope that stuck Oswald upon reading these lines was all but short lived as Bishop returned to his position outside of the cell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it now?” Oswald asked, too delighted to be truly angry and too eager to not be a bit snappish. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The GCPD is here to go over the arrangements for your potential release,” Bishop told him, unlocking the cell door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald grinned, “Well then, let’s not keep them waiting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood up once more and limped over to Bishop contently. It appeared as though things were turning around for both him </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>Edward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t wait.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos and constructive feedback are much appreciated; thank you so much for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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